


Symbiosis

by OneOfThoseThings



Series: Interspecies Compatibility [4]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), Mutual Masturbation (Basically), Really Probably Definitely Not Platonic At This Point, Telepathic Sex (Sort Of), Telepathy, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneOfThoseThings/pseuds/OneOfThoseThings
Summary: Having worked out a mutually beneficial system, the Doctor refines his technique. Donna has notes.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble
Series: Interspecies Compatibility [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637608
Comments: 16
Kudos: 138





	Symbiosis

**Author's Note:**

> Symbiosis (definition): any interdependent or mutually beneficial relationship between two persons, groups, etc.  
> Biology: the living together of two dissimilar organisms, as in mutualism, commensalism, amensalism, or parasitism.  
> Psychiatry: a relationship between two people in which each person is dependent upon and receives reinforcement, whether beneficial or detrimental, from the other.

The Doctor’s landing was off by a measly half century and they ended up having to deal with a minor but violent uprising of synthetically augmented vines. He felt that this was an entirely understandable mistake that no reasonable person could be expected to be able to avoid. 

Donna, naturally, felt otherwise. 

“You’re giving me another driving lesson. You clearly can’t be in charge of taking us anywhere,” she wheezed. 

He braced a foot against the ramp, slamming the door with a wet crunch. “I thought the negotiations went rather well, right up until that last bit.” 

“You mean the bit where we were technically eaten? Or the bit where you nearly blew up my oxygen tank while it was still in my mouth? Or the bit where that ladybug hamster thing spat acid all over your trousers?” 

The Doctor looked down at his bare legs. “Admittedly, there are areas for improvement. But you can’t let a few wrong notes ruin the whole parade.” 

“That’s not a saying,” Donna said, swiping a hand through her hair and flicking digestive foam at him. 

“Which one of us speaks five billion languages?”

“Oh, shove off. I’m going to take a shower. See if you can get the TARDIS to simulate Chinese takeaway.” 

She returned 49 minutes and 43 seconds later, smelling faintly of soy sauce and strongly of jasmine. “There was a minor communication issue regarding my conditioner,” she said. “But on the upside, I now have a new signature scent.” 

He opened the nearest container and took a bite of lo mein. “It’s hardly her fault. Your thoughts are always all jumbled up. She needs a clear concept to work with, not a sack full of mad squirrels.” 

“Oi!” She shoved her chopsticks in his face. “Keep talking about my head like that and you’re not getting back in it! You’re just jealous that the TARDIS and I have been bonding!” 

A drawer popped open, filled with three faberge eggs. 

“Exactly!” Donna said, shoving a mushroom into her mouth with a flourish. 

The Doctor quietly suggested that the TARDIS could just stop listening to the humans if it made her so sick. The TARDIS crooned and the faberge eggs hatched three things that looked like fluffy orange alligators. 

He shoved the drawer shut and passed Donna an eggroll. 

“Speaking of bonding…” He raised his eyebrows. 

Donna laughed. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mister ‘I’ve Evolved Beyond All That’ back to slum it down here with us squirrel-brained humans.” 

One of the drawer alligators growled and he coughed to cover it. “Same deal as last time?” he offered. 

Donna looked him up and down. “Did you get all the ladybug acid off?” 

“No, I just put on a new suit; I’m enjoying the tingle. Yes, I got the ladybug acid off!” His left foot did tingle a bit, now that he was thinking about it, but he was sure that was unrelated. 

She shrugged. “I suppose I could free up some time in my busy schedule. Your room or mine?”

He took out a dumpling in two bites. “Your bed is bigger.” 

“Aha!” she crowed. “I told you she likes me!” She took a victorious scoop of rice and patted the counter. 

Six Mickey Mouse balloons popped out of the cabinet, hitting him in the head. 

He batted them away. “Of course she likes you. Why do you think she puts up with you gumming up her works with your half-baked thought vomit?” 

“With my _what?!_ ” Donna shrieked. 

“I said you were right!” he objected. “You can’t yell at me for agreeing with you!” 

“You can bloody well watch me!” 

“Hang on, that reminds me,” He reached into the nearest drawer, narrowly avoided getting bitten by the alligators, shut that drawer and opened the drawer below it, pulling out two packets. “Potassium and iron supplements,” he said, holding them out. 

Donna snatched them out of his hand, glaring. “This is, by far, the worst pick up I’ve ever had to put up with.” 

The Doctor pulled a glass of water out of his pocket. “Here you go. They’re quick dissolve.” 

She took the glass, still grumbling, shook out the packets and tossed it back. “I have notes on your chat up technique.” 

“Whatever you do, don’t try to get the TARDIS to write them up for you. I don’t want to wake up to a console room filled with bees and Jell-O.”

“This _right here_ is how you get smacked! No― Better idea― Give me one of those fuzzy alligators!” She pointed to the growling drawer.

He startled. “You saw those?” 

“No, your amaaazing slight of hand distracted me.” She waved her hands, sarcastically. “Of course I saw them! Go ahead and assume from now on that when fuzzy alligators hatch out of faberge eggs, _I’ve probably noticed!!_ ”

He looked her over, reluctantly impressed. “You know you really are one of the most interesting things I’ve ever encountered.” 

“Oh, shut up,” she chomped through another mouthful of noodles and shoved the carton aside. “And don’t call me a thing! This is going in the notes!” She stood up. “I’m going to my room. Get those alligators a terrarium or something and then meet me there.” She flounced out. 

He looked down at the drawer, considering. 

“Do _not_ bring the alligators to my room!” Donna shouted from the hallway. 

He gave a mental shrug to the TARDIS, scooped out the alligators and deposited them in the newly generated terrarium. After a quick deliberation, he tossed the eggs in with them. For decor. 

* * *

When he got to her room, Donna was in the ensuite. He shucked off his jacket and shoes and casually started snooping. The vanity covered in baubles was interesting, but also slightly concerning, as he immediately noticed two weapon-grade antimatter components mixed in with the perfumes. The TARDIS quickly absorbed them with an embarrassed twitter. 

“Oi, why’d you make her take those back? I liked those!” Donna reappeared with a clatter. 

“You _asked_ for those?” He eyed her worriedly. 

Donna flapped a hand vaguely. “No, I was trying to adjust the mirror light, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

The Doctor made a mental note to worry about all the implications of those updates later. “I could try asking her more…clearly…”

Donna huffed. “It could be you with the weird brain, you know! Maybe she’s all messed up from having to deal with your nutter nonsense over the years!” 

The TARDIS trilled pensively. 

“OK that’s enough of that,” he decided to commence the interaction before she could start up an existential crisis. He leaned forward, but paused, sniffing. “Why do you smell like mint? We didn’t have anything with mint in it.” He tried to remember whether unexplained minty scents were warning signs of anything serious in humans. 

Donna looked inexplicably embarrassed. “I brushed my teeth,” she said, then looked at him. “Did you _not_ brush your teeth?” 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Why would I brush my teeth right now? Should I have stopped off to fold socks and do some light dusting before coming here?” 

She narrowed her eyes. “ _Am_ I the first human you’ve interacted with? Did you hire Martha to pretend she knew you to lull me into a false sense of security? Be honest. I’m not even mad; I’m a little impressed.” 

“What? No. What? I’ve interacted with scores of humans. You are, by far, the strangest one. Have _you_ interacted with other humans?”

“Ugh, just come here,” she grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him down. Which was a bit rude, but he was willing to work with it. He adjusted the angle and nipped her lower lip to get access to her weirdly minty mouth. She made a sound partway between confused and surprised, pushing his tongue back into his own mouth and following it with her own. She took several broad sweeps and then pulled back. 

“Why don’t you taste like eggrolls?” 

He took a moment to decide that yes, he had heard that correctly. “Why would I?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Because I just watched you eat half a dozen eggrolls?” She pushed forward, taking another lick, flicking her tongue behind his teeth, and pulled right back. “You don’t taste like anything!” 

“What, do humans normally come in flavors? Were you expecting Rockin’ Raspberry?” 

“You just said yourself I taste like mint!” 

“Technically fluoride, plastic, salt, iron, and…” he paused, considering how to say ‘pork’ without getting slapped “…Never mind the rest.” He cocked his head. “Is this considered acceptable pillow talk? I wouldn’t have thought so.” 

She blew out her cheeks. “Oh, just―“ She grabbed his neck again and he ducked down to meet her halfway. 

When he tugged at the ties of her dress, she started undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

“Why are you doing that?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

She paused, the backs of two knuckles brushing his skin through the gap. “I’m, uh,” she pulled back a little, “Not sure, really.” She rubbed the fabric between her fingers. “Seems weird to just stand here not doing anything.” 

He shrugged, “That’s sort of the point. You don’t need to do anything.” He bent down to lick a cluster of nerves in her neck and then exhaled on the damp skin until the vellus hair tickled his lips. 

Donna groaned, gripping his shoulders in what he took as encouragement. 

He dipped his head lower and stroked his hands up her sides, mapping nerves and muscles with a careful application of fingertips. 

Donna clamped one hand onto the back of his head, shoving the other under his collar to clutch at his clavicle. 

He grazed his teeth over the lateral branches of her thoracic intercostal nerves and her grip spasmed. 

“Sorry,” she gasped, awkwardly unclenching her hands. 

He pulled back far enough to say, “It’s fine. You don’t have to fight your reflexes.” He nipped the skin just under the curve of her breast and she clamped down again. 

“But it’s―” Donna sucked in air, “It’s not what you―“

The Doctor shrugged, “It doesn’t hurt me. Do whatever you want. Just relax,” he drew the last word out, coaxing her back until she hit the bed. He made quick work of her undergarments, taking a moment to pull of his own shirt, since the skin-to-skin contact seemed to be important. 

He mouthed his way along her femoral artery, pulled her knees over his shoulders and paused, fingers flexing. “What did you do to your legs?”

She took a moment to realize he’d asked a question. “What?” 

He rubbed his hand up and back, confirming. “Didn’t you have hair here?” 

She squeaked; spasming. “I shaved, _obviously_! What, are you taking inventory?” 

He stroked one hand up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “What a strange thing to do. Were you feeling too warm?” 

Donna dropped her head back, shifting her hips to seek more direct contact. “Bit warm, yeah.” 

He licked experimentally and she shuddered, shoving a hand into his hair, not to pull or guide, apparently, just to hold onto something. 

He carefully cataloged her responses, experimenting with patterns and methods. Donna couldn’t quite help pawing at him as she got worked up. It was a bit like trying to pet a slightly feral raccoon, but he tried not to begrudge her the odd scratch or bite.

* * *

As soon as she was settled, before she even bothered to catch her breath, she yanked him up next to her and he fell into the connection gratefully.

~*~

It seemed that her physical reactions carried into her mental landscape and the result was nothing short of spectacular. Her mind twisted around him in impossible knots and then loosened, drawing him in to the tangle. Contentment bloomed deep indigo, seeping into every corner, every crevice. There was a spectacular feeling of floating and falling, of letting go and being caught. 

He was warm and cradled and welcome and it was _everything_.

~*~

She fell asleep on his hand again, but he found it harder and harder to mind. 


End file.
